


Fearful Symmetry

by RayShippouUchiha



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, As One Does, BAMF Tony Stark, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Comic Book Science, Fluff, Humor, Hydra (Marvel), Kidnapping, M/M, Oblivious Tony Stark, Pining, Pining Bucky Barnes, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Team, Snarky Tony Stark, Team as Family, Tony is inappropriately mouthy during a kidnapping, handwaving certain issues aside, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 15:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11877663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RayShippouUchiha/pseuds/RayShippouUchiha
Summary: He’s obviously in the warehouse district near the docks, probably in one of the abandoned packing plants or something of the like.  Honestly at this point this kidnapping couldn’t get more cliché if itactively tried.“Service sucks and the wait staff stole my clothes,” Tony whispers, unable to help himself as he slinks down the hall, “Zero stars, would not come again.”





	Fearful Symmetry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamingdarkly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingdarkly/gifts).



> Just a little something for the lovely dreamingdarkly

They’re fighting a HYDRA splinter cell that had risen from the ashes of SHIELD’s fall and refused to be destroyed when it happens.  The fuckers are advanced, better equipped and organized than any they’ve fought in the year and a half since Steve had pulled him into the safety of the Tower and the team that lives there.

Bucky’s sweaty and bloody but still going strong, rifle barking out in his hands with barely a pause in between shots as target after target falls, when the word comes across the line.  There’s a sudden pause in action and through his scope he can see that the enemy seems to be retreating, the lines of robots surging towards the front while the black, tactical suited humans fall back behind them.

“ _They took him_ ,” Steve pants into the comm during the sudden lull.  “ _Fuck_.  _We can’t let any of them leave.  They took him.  They took Tony_.  _I repeat, Iron Man is down and currently in enemy hands_.”

The words echo through Bucky’s head like a gunshot.  Ricochet through his mind and leave only devastation in their wake.

Bucky feels himself grey out, feels his mind shiver as black closes in around the edges of his vision for a split second.  He’s moving in the next breath, rifle abandoned on the rooftop where he’s been thinning out the opposition for the past fifteen minutes on Steve’s orders.  It’s a thing of beauty that rifle, all sleek lines and flowing curves, almost as beautiful as the man who’d birthed it into existence just for him, but Bucky doesn’t spare it a second thought.

All he can hear above the roaring in his ears is the tiny catch in Steve’s voice when he’d said Tony’s name.  All he can see is Tony smiling at him, messy haired and bright eyed, as he raved over his latest reiteration of the armor.  All he can think about is the _chair_ , about what HYDRA had done to him in all the years they’d had him in their grasp.  About all of the things they could and would do to someone as brilliant as Tony if they were given half a chance.

 _No_.

That won’t happen.

 _Can’t_.

Bucky won’t allow it.  Won’t allow them to hurt Tony, to twist him until he breaks and they can remake his brilliance into an image of their own choosing.

He’ll die first.

He vaults the edge of the building, catches himself on a fire escape to break his fall for a split second before he lets go and free falls only to catch himself again moments later.  He works his way down the building like that, more concerned with speed than safety, and hits the ground hard enough to damage the cement of the sidewalk and snap one of his ankles beneath him.

He doesn’t stumble, just internalizes the pain and breaks out into a run, the serum stitching the bone back together almost as soon as it fractures.

There’s no time for caution.

Not when HYDRA has Tony.

He barrels straight through the debris of their battle, charges right past Widow who’s going hand to hand with two HYDRA agents, another three laid out on the ground in a semicircle around her.  A robot rears up off of the ground ahead of him but an arrow hits it in the neck joint before he can blink, right in that sweet spot between the plating Tony had pointed out to them earlier.

There’s another up ahead of him but Falcon’s there in the next heartbeat, swooping down and landing a solid kick to its back followed by a kill shot to the back of its head at close range.  He’s gone again in the next second, back up into the air to scout for more prey.

In the distance Bucky clocks the Hulk’s roar alongside Thor’s battle cry.

They’re clearing the path for him and Steve it seems, doing everything they can to turn the tide so that they can get to Tony before it’s too late.

There’s a scream then, high pitched and undeniably young, but Bucky doesn’t falter.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve’s voice is agonized when it comes over the comm again and Bucky knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth again.

There’s civilians in the crossfire and Steve can’t just let them die.  Not even for Tony.  _Especially_ not for Tony who would kill Steve himself if he sacrificed an innocent on purpose just to save him.

 _‘Not worth it,’_ Tony would bite out, as unable as always to see his own worth even to them, even to his team and family.

Unable to see his own worth especially to Bucky

“Go,” Bucky has enough presence of mind to bark out.  “I’ll get him back.”

“Roger,” Steve huffs back and then he’s gone, the flash of blue Bucky had been unconsciously watching as it moved ahead of him veering off towards the left and into what looks like the blown out windows of a coffee shop.

Bucky grits his teeth and speeds up, determination burning in his chest.

 _Tony._   His name echoes like a refrain in Bucky’s head.  _Tony.  Tony.  Tony._

Bucky sees it as soon as he gets close to the place where Tony had gone down.  There’s crater in the ground, asphalt and cement thrown up in chunks and slivers where Tony had obviously gone down hard.

What makes Bucky’s breath stutter in his throat for a split second is what else lays scattered around the area.

The armor’s in pieces, bits of red and gold metal strewn across the ground like it’s been ripped from Tony and then thrown carelessly to the side.

Ice trickles down Bucky’s spine because that means one thing and one thing only.

HYDRA doesn’t want the armor.  Doesn’t want the world changing technology Tony wears as casually and beautifully as one of his suits or his grubby garage gear.

What they want is _Tony_.

His pistol is in his hand before he even decides to move.  He doesn’t bother to slow down or pause as he runs, just brings the gun up and fires once, twice, three times.  Three more agents go down but there’s more of them swarming in from around corners and down the streets.  Some turn to face him, guns raised, and others are shouting into their headsets and raising their arms above their heads like they’re flagging something down.

Ahead of him there’s the rhythmic thump-thump of a helicopter landing amongst the shouting and then Bucky sees him.

 _Tony_.

He’s unconscious, face bloody and body limp, and he’s being held up by two HYDRA goons who Bucky fully intends to kill.  They’re moving as a group toward a large black tactical helicopter and Bucky knows if he doesn’t go faster he’s going to miss his chance.

He can do a lot of things but, unlike some of the others, flying without some help isn’t one of them.

There’s the metallic ting of bullets ricocheting off of his arm as he automatically raises it in front of his face and then the stinging pop as a bullet catches him low on the side.  All it does is piss him off even more and Bucky feels his teeth length in his mouth in response.  He feels his jaw begin to twinge as the change creeps up his spine, fur itching to burst through his skin.  This time he doesn’t bother to fight it, just throws himself forward through the air in front of him in a fluid arch.

He burst out of his clothes, leather and Kevlar going flying as his wolf surges towards the surface, metal arm changing with him as fluidly as it always has.

He hits the ground on all fours, faster than ever before, all of his being focused only on getting to Tony.  On getting him back and tearing out the throats of all those who dared to touch him.

Bucky _refuses_ to lose anyone or anything else to HYDRA’s clutches.

Even if Tony isn’t technically _his_ to lose.

Bucky’s close enough to smell the blood, close enough to catch a hint of Tony’s unique scent, metallic and warm and just the slightest bit wild in a way that’s always made his spine itch, before he’s thrown off of his feet.

The explosion rips through the street in front of him, too large and powerful for even him to power through.  He tries anyways, gets back up onto all fours as quickly as he can despite the pain that arcs through his ribs, the taste of blood in his mouth he knows is his, and the ringing in his ears.

It’s too late though.

Bucky can only watch as the helicopter lifts off, already too far off of the ground for him to catch it even if he uses the nearby cars as a springboard.

He tries anyways only to fall short, lands on his paws in the center of the remaining HYDRA troops but doesn’t pay them any mind.

For a split second he pauses there, surrounded by enemies, and just stares up at the helicopter that’s taking Tony away from the battlefield.  Away from his team, his friends, his family.

Away from Bucky who _loves_ him but had never quite been brave enough to tell him.

Agony spearing through him Bucky tips his head back and _howls_.  It’s a terrible, broken, sound that echoes across the battlefield.

Then the agony of his loss slides away and sheer, raw _rage_ replaces it.

Teeth bared in a gleaming snarl Bucky turns towards the remaining HYDRA goons who’re watching him, struck dumb with some kind of mixture of horror and awe.

He lunges for the one closest to him with only one thought on his mind.

They’ll pay for what they’ve done.

And they _do_.

~~~

Bucky comes back to himself in stops and starts.  The red haze of his rage fading as he slowly realizes there’s no one left for him to fight.

“We’re gonna get him back Buck,” Steve’s crouched not too far from him, face hard but voice soothing.  “I swear we are.  There’s no way we’re going to let them keep him okay?  Tony’s ours and we’re gonna get him _back_.  But I need you with me, with us.”

“I’m here,” Bucky groans as he shifts back, body sore but already healing.  A major perk of the serum is that not even the aches of shifting hang around long.

“Good,” Natasha’s there in the next second, sliding up beside Steve like she’s been there all along.  “We’ve got the situation here contained but neither Thor nor Wilson were able to track that helicopter.  There was too much interference from the ground and too many civilians in danger for them to take off after it.”

“ _You lost him?_ ”  Bucky snarls the question out.

“We did,” Natasha agrees but then barrels on before Bucky can get any more indignant.  “But that doesn’t mean _JARVIS_ did.  He’s got eyes on them as we speak but they’ve got one hell of a head start.  So I suggest you get your shit together because we’re moving out in three minutes with or without you.  Also you might want to put some pants on,” she pauses, tracks her eyes down his naked form, and then smirks, “or not.  Pretty sure Tony would enjoy the view if you came running to his rescue naked.”

Beside her Steve looks vaguely pained but Bucky doesn’t let it bother him.  Instead he stands up and turns to one of the downed HYDRA grunts who looks to be about his size in the waist if nothing else.  It’s not his favorite option but it’ll do for now.

“There’ll be a fresh uniform on the jet,” Steve reminds him.  It’s something they’d put into place even before Bucky had become a part of the team.  Fresh clothes and spare uniforms are always stocked on the quinjet now.  Apparently there’d been one too many mishaps that had ended in someone naked while on mission for them to not be prepared.

Bucky just shrugs as he tugs the pants up and on.  They’re too short, dirty, and ripped in places but he doesn’t really care.  Fresh clothes waiting for him or not he’s made do with less in the past.  Now, with Tony’s safety in the balance, he doesn’t have the time nor the desire to be picky.

All that matters is getting Tony back safely and he’d do that naked or in his fur if he had to, no questions asked.

It takes closer to five minutes to get everyone else gathered in the quinjet JARVIS pilots to their location.  Thor agrees to stay behind with Sam to keep an eye on the battlefield and to start recovery and cleanup efforts.  Neither of them look pleased about the prospect but they know it’s a necessary evil of the job.  Sometimes not all of them can go where they want to, especially not right after a fight.

Plus they’ll have the task of cleaning up as much of Tony’s armor as they can before anyone tries to make off with any of the pieces.

“Bring our shield-brother home,” Thor orders, mouth pinched in displeasure and worry.  “Anthony is a fierce opponent but without his armor I fear for his safety.”

“We’ll get him Thor,” Steve soothes, “don’t worry.  We’re going to get Tony back safe and sound.”

Thor nods, clenches his hand around Mjolnir’s handle, and then turns away with a sharp nod, Sam throws up a hand in farewell and then follows at his heels.

Once inside of the quinjet Bucky heads for the armory and the new clothes and weapons it promises while Steve, Natasha, and Clint settle into their seats.  Bruce, still vaguely green but under control, heads for the small infirmary section and begins to check over the first aid kits, the stretch pants Tony made for him having held up as well as always.

“If you will all secure yourselves I will commence departure,” JARVIS’ voice sounds over the speakers in the quinjet as the bay door closes behind them.  “Sir is approximately forty-three point six minutes away and apparently under rather heavy guard if my surveillance is correct.  Our flight path is clear and the weather is ideal for a rescue.”

“You don’t seem all that worried JARVIS.”  Natasha puts forth even as she checks over her guns and her widow bites.  “I’d have thought you’d be a bit more concerned with Tony getting kidnapped again.”

“Sir has an _unfortunate_ propensity for being captured,” JARVIS sounds exasperated and fond all at once.  It fills Bucky with awe sometimes, the humanity of Tony’s creations.  “He also has a talent for escaping captivity as well so I suppose some sort of balance has been achieved.”

“They took him out of the suit,” Steve points out, worry heavy in his tone.  “And they’ll be smart enough to keep him contained and to strip him of anything he could use to escape.”

The thought of Steve being right eats away at Bucky.  He knows Tony’s strong, knows he’s smart and resourceful and achingly brilliant.  Bucky knows all of these things about him, had fallen in love with all of those things about him even if he never seemed to be able to find the guts to say anything to him.  But he also knows that outside of the suit Tony is frighteningly vulnerable, fragile in a way that most of the rest of them aren’t.

“Unless they have found a way to stop a shift completely and thought to account for it with Sir then I am afraid they will be rather … disappointed and inconvenienced where Sir’s defenselessness is concerned.”  JARVIS tells them dryly.

Bucky, along with all of the others, freeze.

“Tony …” Clint’s brows are furrowed as he looks around the group, “ _Tony’s_ a shifter?”

Clint’s not the only one who’s confused.

Tony, as far as any of them know, is a baseline human.  Someone who doesn’t shift at all, who doesn’t carry the genetics that something like seventy percent of the world and most of their team does.

Until now they’d thought that Sam and Tony were the ones who didn’t shift on their team.  Well the two of them and Thor, but he’s a god so he doesn’t exactly count towards the grading curve.

There’d never been any inclination or sign that Tony was anything more than a baseline human as far as shifting went.  His file had him as a baseline and he'd never shown any particular inclination towards any one shifter culture or anything of the like before.  They’d even teased him on and off about what kind of form he’d take if he did shift.

Tony had never said a word either way, only laughed and went about his business.

Sam was going to be pissed if he was the only baseline human on the entire team.

“Sir has never advertised his shift,” JARVIS informs them primly.  “It is my understanding that he matured as a shifter later on in life and never saw the need to go public with the issue as registration is done as a child and is not, technically, required by law.  Currently only Colonel Rhodes, Ms. Potts, and Mr. Hogan are aware of his status.  Indeed he’s only recently given me authorization to speak to you about it at all in an emergency setting.”

“We’ll be sure to grill him about it later,” Steve cuts in as he moves to Bucky’s side, a hand coming up to squeeze his shoulder in solidarity.  “But for now rescuing him takes precedence.”

“Indeed,” JARVIS agrees.  “You should reach Sir’s current location shortly and I am sure he would prefer a ride back to the Tower sooner rather than later.  Although I have my doubts as to his actual need to be _rescued_.  Either way if he is not returned to the Tower posthaste I will be required to inform Colonel Rhodes.”

There’s a collective wince despite the seriousness of the situation.

No one wants to be around when Rhodes arrives back to the Tower if Tony isn’t back safe and sound.

“We’ll get him back,” Bucky grits the words out.

Maybe Tony’s a shifter but that doesn’t really change anything.  Doesn’t change the fact that Bucky’s desperate to get him back, desperate to see him safe after he failed to get to him in the first place.

Desperate to have the chance to do what he should have done months ago when he realized what he felt for Tony went beyond attraction and appreciation.

They have to get him back.

There’s no other option.  Not for any of them.

And especially not for Bucky.

~~~

‘ _Oh for fuck’s sake,_ ’ is the first thought that rings through Tony’s mind when he wakes up.

He knows before he’s even opened his eyes that the armor is gone.

His head is pounding, his mouth tastes like blood, and he’s pretty sure he’s naked.

He’s, obviously, somehow managed to be kidnapped _yet_ _again_.

Otherwise he’d more than likely be waking up in the sterile, but still comfortable, medical floor of the Tower.  That and there’d be a number of the others hovering by or near his bed ready to yell at him depending on how bad he’d managed to get hurt this time.  If he was home right now he’d probably be looking up into a certain pair of grey eyes he finds entirely too attractive as they stared down at him in one part concern and one part accusation.

Bucky always seems to take it so _personally_ whenever Tony gets hurt for some reason.  Even more personally than Steve, who frets around like a mother hen, or even Rhodey who always threatens to lock him away in the Tower when he gets banged up on a mission.

So, yeah, he knows he’s not home.

He’s too sore, too cold, too naked and too dirty for him to be home.

Also he’s handcuffed, that’s another big clue.

Not that he’s against handcuffs in general, or in the right settings, but that’s another story entirely.

Tony pries his eyes open one at a time and damn near hisses in pain as the too bright light sends his head to pounding even worse than before.  It takes him a few seconds to work through the pain, to regulate his breathing as he lets his eyes slowly adjust to the light.

Then he takes the opportunity to look around him and take in his surroundings.

The room he’s been locked in is small and dreary despite the brightness of the light.  Cement walls with no windows have been whitewashed but otherwise left blank.  There’s a single steel door across from where he’s splayed across the floor.

All in all it’s not overly impressive.

Tony sighs, shifts around until he’s sitting instead of laying on his side, and realizes that while he is indeed handcuffed, or shackled would be more accurate, the cuffs aren’t attached to anything else.  Plus his hands have been left in front of him.

 _'Honestly,'_ Tony scoffs to himself, _'it’s like they’re asking me to escape.'_

Someone out there is vastly underestimating him and his ability to be a pain in the ass to the people who kidnap him.

“Incompetent,” Tony grumbles to himself as he moves around a bit, flexing his arms and wrists to test the give of the metal that makes up his shackles.  “Couldn’t even make this a bit of a challenge.  These half-ass abductions are getting _old_.  I had better kidnappings when I was a _kid_.  Hell, I could have _planned_ a better kidnapping when I was a kid.”

Tony lets the shift well up beneath his skin, lets it come to the surface even as he channels it with laser like focus.  Familiar striped fur emerges from his forearms in a wave as thick claws sprout from each of his fingers.

“Rhodey’s gonna be _insufferable_.”  Tony rolls his eyes and frowns as the shackles strain and then finally break, unable to withstand the pressure of his bulging muscles and rippling fur.  He catches them before they hit the ground.  “I can just hear him now.  Can’t go six months without getting kidnapped Tony.  I can’t leave you alone for a week Tony.  You’re the reason I’m taking anxiety meds Tony.  Bitch, bitch, bitch.”

Tony wraps a hand around the chain of the destroyed shackles and tests the heft.  They’re decent quality but ultimately nothing he’s likely to find useful in the long run.  He puts them down on the floor and then pushes his way up onto his feet.

“Welp, time to get moving I’d say,” Tony hums as he swipes his hands across his ass and then stretches his arms up above his head with a low groan.  The arc reactor hums in his chest and he taps at it with absent minded affection.

The reactor had stopped him from shifting and attempting to escape in Afghanistan.  The entire makeup of the first crude model had not been integrated into his system in a way that would allow him to slip into his fur completely.

That had been the second thing Tony had fixed about the reactor, right after he’d pulled things together enough to clear up the palladium issue of course.

Tony slinks his way across the floor towards the metal door, wraps one claw tipped hand around the handle, and gives it a firm yank.

The lock breaks with a loud snapping noise and a slight shudder of the door itself.

“That was easy,” Tony grumbles, trapped somewhere between annoyance and something like disappointment.

He slips out of the room and into the surprisingly dark hallway.  His eyes automatically adjust to filter in more light as he slips from shadow to shadow down the otherwise deserted hall.

Tony’s already pretty sure he knows the way out.  He can smell brine and water from somewhere towards his right, can hear the faint sounds of waves lapping against stone and the distant echoing noise of a boat’s horn blowing.

He’s obviously in the warehouse district near the docks, probably in one of the abandoned packing plants or something of the like.  Honestly at this point this kidnapping couldn’t get more cliché if it actively _tried_.

“Service sucks and the wait staff stole my clothes,” Tony whispers, unable to help himself as he slinks down the hall, “Zero stars, would not come again.”

He hears and smells them before he sees them, at least four people up ahead of him.  They’re loud to his senses and smell like sweat and gunpowder and rotting wood.  No one he knows then, not one of the team.

Tony straightens up, lets the partial shift he’d sent down his arms spread until it encompasses all of him.  He waits until it settles just beneath his skin, ready and waiting but with no outer signs that he’s anything other than baseline, and then he steps around the corner nonchalantly.

He wants to take them by surprise and there’s no need to show his hand too soon.

“So,” Tony says loudly as he steps into view of the four, no make that six, guards in the next room.  “Anyone want to tell me what’s going on here?  Besides the kidnapping, that part was obvious.  I’m talking more about the naked and chained part.  Cause I’m not opposed to either of those things separately or together but normally there’s a lot more consent involved on all sides.  Just food for thought, for next time.”

“Stark,” Goon number one barks as he raises his rifle up towards his shoulder.  “Put your hands up and come quietly and we won’t be forced to hurt you.”

“Yeah,” Tony drawls as the shift shudders beneath his skin, “that’s not gonna work for me.  Cause I don’t like being caged against my will and, frankly, you should be more worried about yourselves right now.”

There’s a split second of silence.  The guards shift, looking uneasy, and then a second one raises his rifle to his shoulder.

That’s all it takes.

Almost faster than they can track Tony lunges forward, skin melting away to fur, and then it’s _chaos_.

~~~

Bucky’s an interesting mix of anxiety, anger, and icy calm by the time the quinjet focuses in on the warehouse where JARVIS had tracked the helicopter Tony had been taken in.

He’s the first one out of the bay doors almost before they’re all the way open.  Steve and Natasha are heavy on his heels while Clint goes through the roof opening to take the high view and provide them with cover.  Bruce stays by the first aid kits in the corner of the jet, ready and willing to change if needs be but more inclined to be prepared for the worst when they bring Tony back in.

The place is old, run down, smelling of rotted wood and decades of salt water ridden breezes.

It makes Bucky’s nose itch but he ignores it with the ease that comes along with decades of practice.

“Widow you take the side, me and Soldier will go in through the front,” Steve tells them lowly, falling into command mode, his voice is a low rough burr and his jaw is set harshly in his anger.  Bucky knew that, if Steve was shifted, his long tufted tail would be swaying behind him in agitation.  “We’re here for Tony first and foremost so let’s find him and get out quick.  Once he’s safe we can worry about detaining anyone else inside.”

“Agreed.”  Natasha nods and moves to slink off to the side, her serpentine nature given away by the way she moves.

She barely gets two steps ahead before there’s a roar, the sound of rifles firing, and screams from inside the warehouse.

They all share a look for a split second and then they move, plans forgotten, towards the entrance.

Steve makes it there first, just a hair faster as he slams his shield against the door and bursts it wide open in front of him.

Bucky’s directly on his heels and almost trips over him when Steve skids to a halt in the middle of the doorway.

Bucky sidesteps him and goes to dart forward towards the faint scent of Tony he’d caught in the stale are when he sees exactly what had frozen Steve in place.

The room is destroyed, old furniture and crates shattered and scattered everywhere.  There’s six men of various sizes laid out across the room as well, bodies twisted as they lay where they’d obviously been thrown.  They’re each littered with bite and claw marks, none looking instantly fatal but all deep and obviously painful.

But that isn’t what has Bucky frozen in a mix of awe and shock.

No what has him standing stock still, mouth gaping open and eyes wide, is the absolutely _massive_ tiger sitting regally in the center of all of the destruction, languidly cleaning one massive paw as it stares at them with familiar bright eyes.

“ _Tony_ ,” Bucky breathes, eyes tracing over the reddish-orange fur and patterned stripes, down to the familiar glow of the arc reactor settled in the center of its great chest.

The tiger puts its paw down, chuffs, and then stretches lazily before it, _he_ , gets up and meanders slowly in their direction.

The shift takes the tiger mid-step and, in one of the smoothest transformations Bucky’s ever seen, the fur gives away to sweetly tanned skin and tight, compact muscles.

“You’re late, Tastee-Freeze,” Tony grins up at him, hair messy and smile bright above what feels like acres of deliciously bare skin.  “You too Cap-Attack, Charlotte.”

Bucky feels his brain short circuit and all he can do is blink dumbly in Tony’s direction.

“I mean I was expecting you all to show up guns blazing _ages_ ago.”  Tony shifts his weight, seemingly unconcerned with his nudity, as he plants a hand on the curve of his hip, the other coming up to wag a finger teasingly in the air between them.  “I had to do everything myself instead of taking a nap and letting you all do the heavy lifting.”

“Tony,” Steve groans as he puts his shield onto his back and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “Where are your clothes?”

“No idea,” Tony chirps cheerfully.  “Woke up naked and handcuffed a few doors down.  And while I’m generally not opposed to either of those things I’m not exactly clear on how I got that way this time either.”

“Well that’s a switch,” Natasha mutters as she pulls some zip ties from one of her pouches and moves towards the nearest groaning man.

“Fuck you Itsy Bitsy.”  Tony flicks a rude gesture in her direction as he turns a bit to watch her progress around the room.

“Sorry Stark,” Natasha snipes back as she plants a knee in one the back of one of the goons on the floor, “not interested in fighting Barnes to the death over the privilege.”

Tony’s eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise as he swivels back around to face Bucky who barely drags his eyes up and off of Tony’s ass in time to catch his confused expression.

The sight of Tony, naked and triumphant in a room of attackers he’d taken down himself, on top of the other man’s obvious confusion as to why Bucky would care about who he fucked, is the final straw.

Bucky moves without even thinking about it.  Just surges forward across the space between them and captures Tony’s face in the palms of his hands.

Then he leans down and finally, _finally_ , kisses him like he’s been wanting to for _months_ now.

Bucky bites at his mouth, teeth sharp and probably a bit too harsh.  Tony just groans and leans into him, mouth sliding open beneath his as his hands come up, sink into Bucky’s hair, and tug harshly.

They’re both panting, faces flushed and eyes blown wide, by the time Bucky breaks the kiss and finally pulls back.

“ _I’m in love with you_ ,” Bucky rasps out against Tony’s mouth as he presses their foreheads together.  “I’m in love with you and I want to date you.”  He pauses for a split second.  “I also wanna know why you never shift because you’re _gorgeous_.”

“I don’t have thumbs,” Tony sounds dazed and Bucky takes a moment to drink him in because the flush that’s riding high on his cheeks is _delicious_.

And then his words sink in an all Bucky can do is blink in confusion.

“What?”

“Tiger.”  Tony blinks up at him.  “No thumbs as a tiger.  Can’t do anything in the shop.  Well I can, I’ve got J and I built a _thing_ … an interface _that’s so not important right now_.  Just … can we do the kissing thing again?”  There’s a faintest hint of whine in Tony’s voice that Bucky finds absolutely endearing.  “I think we should do the kissing thing again.  Cause I’m more than a little in love with you too.  So there should be kissing, a lot of kissing.  Preferably now.”

Bucky agrees wholeheartedly so he ignores the way Natasha’s laughing in the background and Steve’s bitching about ‘ _pants, please put on pants, why does everyone in this team hate pants so much?’_ again.

Instead he focuses on kissing Tony again.

All the while basking in the fact that this is just the beginning.

That he’s gonna have the chance to find a future with Tony at his side.  That there's a chance to have what he's wanted for so long now.

The two of them happy and together in a way he’d only let himself dream about.

Bucky is going to do his level best to make sure they get their happy ending together.

Him and Tony.

The Winter Soldier and Iron Man.

The wolf and the tiger and their fearful kind of symmetry in the way they seem to fit together so perfectly.

And they do.


End file.
